No, Sandra Bullock Isn't In This Either
by I Am The Prince of Wales
Summary: It's got zombies, it's got Dwight... that's everything you need to know right there.


**Title: **No, Sandra Bullock Isn't In This Either

**Author: **Mike Pulgoni, Prince of Wales

**Disclaimer**: You know the drill.

**Rating: **T.

**Genre: **Parody/survival horror

**Author's Notes:** Let me know how I did with this one.

"Okay, I got the camera working," Creed confirmed. "Sound's go, too."

"About time," Dwight snorted. "We need future generations to know what happened here," he continued, adopting a more lofty tone. "That's the most important thing." Far more important than the two men he sacrificed to get the camera and boom mike, but that went without saying.

He turned his attention to the camera. "This Dwight K Schrute of the Lackawanna County Volunteer Sheriff's Department. The building has been completely overtaken by zombies and we have been forced to barricade ourselves in Michael's office..." Dwight felt a slight tapping on his arm and turned to face its origin. "Yes, _Jim?"_

"I think future generations would like to know if these are the slow-moving zombies like in the original _Dawn of the Dead_ or the smarter, faster-moving zombies seen in_ Return of the Living Dead_ trilogy?"

"Well, I didn't really have time to make a thorough study of their behavior before I had to rescue all of you..." Dwight admitted.

"By pushing us into the office with you," Jim supplied.

"Right..." Dwight confirmed, missing the dig, as usual. "But I'm going to assume these zombies start out slow and become stronger and faster as they begin to feed on human flesh."

Jim nodded. "Makes sense."

Dwight turned his attention to the door. So far the barricades were holding, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the sweeping waves of the undead began burst through. Not for the first time, he damned this building for its insane anti-firearm policy.

He had told them this very thing was bound to happen eventually.

"Where do you think the zombies are coming from?" Jim asked softly.

Dwight had always known that Jim was just a shade above brain-dead, but this much should have been obvious even to him. "Pittsburgh."

Stanley wrinkled his nose in confusion, Kelly asked him "Why Pittsburgh?"

If Dwight hadn't needed a few token minorities to be picked off one by one, he would have regretted even saving them for the zombie rampage in the first place. "All zombies are from somewhere in or around Allegheny county," he snorted.

"They must be pretty tired after that long car ride over," Jim said thoughtfully.

Dwight shook his head, why was always surrounded by idiots?

**28 Minutes Earlier...**

"Oh, wow."

"What's up, Kev?" Oscar asked, turning to his fellow accountant.

"I found this behind one of the drawers of my desk," Kevin explained, holding the object aloft with nearly religious reverence. "I thought it was gone forever."

Oscar examined the item in question with cautious disgust. During the unknown years it spent lurking deep with Kevin's desk it had become filthy and hairy enough to pass for a half-dead sewer rat, but he could tell by the label and the air of evil surrounding it and the viscous coloration of its contents that it was clearly

"A bottle of Faygo Red Pop," Kevin affirmed happily. "I was saving it for a special occasion."

Oscar glanced warily at the fluid collecting in bottle through the spottled glass. If it was even possible, it seemed to have gotten sicklier and more syrupy. "How long has that been in there, Kev?"

Kevin's jaw hung open as he tried to do the calculations mentally. Math had never been his strong suit.

Suddenly, Michael popped out of his office. "Dwight!" he shouted across the room.

Dwight's head dutifully hung up on the client he had been negotiating with and gave Michael his full devoted attention.

"My office," Michael growled. "_Now_."

With canine loyalty, Dwight trotted eagerly after his furious master, closing the door behind him.

"Do you know what this is?" Michael asked tersely, holding a few sheets of crumpled paper in front of him.

Dwight examined the offending paper for a few moments. "It appears to be a story about Buffy the Vampire Slayer having sex with her own robotic doppelganger."

Michael nodded coldly. "And do you know why I'm showing it to you?"

"Did you want to beta it for you?" he asked helpfully.

"It's not mine!" Michael replied angrily.

"Are you sure?" Dwight asked. "Because I find the premise fascinating."

"This was found last night by the cleaning crew," Michael explained. "And after they made a few copies, they gave this one back to me. Someone has been writing adult fan fiction on company time," Michael said seriously.

"My god," Dwight gasped.

Michael nodded. "And I don't need to tell you what might happen if anyone from Corporate finds out about this."

Dwight returned the nod with interest. "They'd block Affnet from the system, company-wide."

Michael stared Dwight right back in the eyes, letting the full gravity of the situation sink in. "And that is a sacrifice I am not willing to make."

Dwight knew exactly where this was going. "Time for another meeting?"

Michael nodded once more with feeling.

**2.8 Minutes Later...**

Michael looked across the room, everyone seemed to have made it in. "Do you all know why you're here?"

"I ask myself that question every day," Stanley mumbled.

"_Apparently_," Michael hissed, ignoring him, "some of you are confused about your sexuality and what _is_ and _is not _appropriate in the workplace."

Pam's eyes went wide, Jim prepared himself to be highly amused, Toby brought out his notepad and began making notes on exactly what he'd be saying to Corporate later.

"Michael, none of us are confused about sex," Oscar asserted gruff, yet fairly.

"Oh no?" Michael snapped. "'Buffy's jaw dropped to floor, it looked like Willow had installed some new attachments and she could hardly wait to start using them...'" As one, the entire crew of Dunder Mifflin gaped awkwardly. "Someone in this office has been writing this filth on company time. And since I have no way of figuring out which one of you is CornellStud69, I have no choice but to teach all of you exactly what is wrong with this behavior."

At this point Dwight joined Michael on stage and began setting up the overhead projector behind him.

"So, over the next few hours Dwight and I will be conducting an extensive Sex Education seminar that will touch on every aspect of the tender act of banging and each of you will learn exactly why this sort of thing has to be kept out of the workplace." Michael gestured to Dwight, who took his place at the podium.

"We'll begin with the basics," Dwight clipped as he turned on the projector to reveal a complex illustration of the female reproductive system (similar to the one found in any textbook except Dwight has clearly reassembled this one from memory).

Jim raised his hand.

"Yes, _Jim_," Dwight said, a triffle annoyed at being so interrupted.

"You forgot the clitoris," he pointed out.

Dwight looked at his diagram and realized Jim was right. "The clitoris isn't important," he decided.

Jim couldn't help but smile while Angela somehow looked a tad angrier than usual.

Kevin slumped over. This looked like this meeting was going to take a long time, and he was really thirsty. He pulled the Faygo out of his pocket and contemplated it for a moment. Oscar had warned him that it didn't look safe, but he was feeling really parched and, even if it killed him, it couldn't possibly be worse than listening to Dwight and Michael talk about vaginas for hours on end.

Had Kevin known the unspeakable horrors he was about to unleash... he probably would have done it sooner.


End file.
